The Ink Pot

Banjoes Make Me Happy

2012-01-22T18:00:00.000-08:00

I have reinstated an old goal I've played around with making, but never really officially put it down. This year, I intend to walk or ride the entire Highline Canal in segments. I started with a 3 mile segment on Monday (6 miles round trip) and fell in love again. I took my camera along looking for some fun shots and practice.

This week's grateful pictures:

January 15th - I am reading a very helpful book on writing, lots of great advice and 'activities' to help in the writing process - Chapter by Chapter by Heather Sellers.

January 16th - Went for my 6 mile walk on the Highline, Quincey and Colorado Blvd to Belleview and back.

January 17th - Hooray Colorado! This was the scene that greeted me on my way to the office Tuesday morning.

January 18th - My view on my way home. The sky over me and the foreground were dark and gloomy, but the mountains behind were glowing.

January 19th - Dinner with my friend Zolo at the Cheesecake Factory.

January 20th - After babysitting the kids, my brother came home while Serenity went to a work gig, and we got to hang out a bit, philosophizing, chatting and eating late night brownies and milk.

January 21st - I went to a chili supper and bluegrass concert at the Franktown Grange with Mom and Dad. Cantankerous was the band and they were very good. I do love a good banjo, and a really good fiddle too.

January 22nd - I spent the morning at Mom and Dad's house, and just being there puts me in a good mood. Tea, homemade scones, and lots of natural light make me very happy.

In Memoriam

2012-01-15T16:14:00.000-08:00

My grandmother, Helen Margaret Clark passed away yesterday morning.

Grammy

I will remember you
with apples
and sanddollars,
with the softest hands
and a penchant for spelling.
With flowers,
the piano,
and an astonishing memory for
the names of my exes.
I will remember you
with sweetness,
and noodles,
and love.

KEH

Obituaries

MUNCIE Indianna - Helen M. Clark, 88, passed away early Saturday morning, January 14, 2012 at Morrison Woods.
She was born January 20, 1923 in Ft. Wayne the daughter of Carrie (Grabner) and Clarence Fry.
Helen worked as a Real Estate Agent for twenty-two years, first with Allardt Reality then retiring with Property House Realty. She and her husband Don, wintered in Venice, FL where she volunteered at the Public Library. Here in Muncie she lived on a pond where she kept Koi fish and loved to garden.
Helen is survived by two daughters, Susan Krause, (husband, Jim), Muncie and Dona Hayes, (husband, Vance), Castle Rock, CO; one son, Mark Clark, (wife, Robin), Santa Fe, NM; five grandchildren, Wendy Howell, Muncie, Ryan Hayes, (wife, Serenity)CO, Kelly Hayes, CO, Mitch Clark, Muncie, and Chelsea Clark, CO; three great grandchildren, Jaykeb Howell, Muncie, Corrine Hayes, CO, and Conner Hayes, CO.
She was preceded in death by her husband of sixty-three years, Don Clark.
There will be a private family memorial service at a later date.
Memorial contributions may be directed to ARF Animal Rescue Foundation, 1209 W. Riggin RD. Muncie, IN 47304.
Helen's family would like to give special thanks to Morrison Woods and Embrace Hospice for the love and care shown to Helen.

Pictures for the week:

January 9th - It's amazing the writing I got done Monday night when I turned the TV off.

January 10th -The best banana pudding - or pudding in general - EVER and tea in a fun brewer at Rooster and Moon Cafe.

January 11th - Due to the crazy snow Wednesday morning, I went home early to work from home, and I am so so grateful this is even an option!

January 12th - Somebody reads my blog and here she is! Hooray to Ryann!

January 13th - Watching Hugo in 3D with my friend Lyndsay.

January 14th - I am grateful that Grammy is no longer suffering.

January 14th - I am so grateful for technology that allows me to talk to my friend Kristy in Australia and see her baby Mia!

It's the Little Things

2012-01-08T19:06:00.000-08:00

As much as I'd like to take artsy shots like this one all week:

it's hard in the winter when the daylight is limited and I work in an office all day. This week in particular I've focused on the little things that I'm grateful for or that make me happy.

Jan 2nd - Luckily I was paying attention and caught the error that would have charged me $48.00 for 48 cents of cilantro at the grocery store.

Jan 3- I had a dream of a friend from high school, that I haven't seen or talked to since college. I decided it's about time to reach out, and thanks to Facebook, I was able to find her easily and make contact.

January 4th - In December, I started writing every day on my novel again, and I haven't broken my stride.

January 5th - All week I have been battling dehydration and getting back in the habit of drinking 2 - 3 water bottles a day. After being made aware of the water situation in so many places around the world, I am truly thankful that I have so much clean water - filtered even - and readily available - hot or cold - without any danger on my way to fill up my bottle. That isn't something little at all.

January 6th - I had the privilege to attend a training for a curriculum developed by a Denver teacher based off a book written by a former Wall Street banker. This book discusses the Code of the West, a code which Wall Street should have adopted, and one which the State of Wyoming has.

Jan 7th - Dad and I babysat the kids tonight, and I am thrilled that they have a grandpa that gets the rhythm of Dr. Seuss and has a great Pirate Pete voice for story time.

January 8th - Yesterday it snowed, and today there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Perfect light shining through my mom's art installation in my gate.

Here's To Happy Days Ahead

2012-01-01T18:43:00.000-08:00

After a wonderful - if not totally relaxing - week at home, I am ready to start the new year. Some of my goals include:
Bake my own bread
Learn to make a pie from scratch
Lose weight ( so I won't be eating the pie I make :)
Find an agent for my kids books - This is the year, a fire has been lit under my patoot and I'm ready to go.

Here are my grateful pictures from this last week:

Dec 26th - It's nice to have a camera on a walk through old town Castle Rock.

December 27th - We got to sit in on my niece's ballet class. 5 little 3 year olds = cuteness wrapped in tutus.
I couldn't take just one picture of this.

December 28th - Mom and I were treated to this beautiful start to a stunning sunset on our way home from very productive shopping.

December 29th - Making peanut butter balls with Connor, Mom, and Corinne the "good cooker".

December 30th - Dad is writing a book! And it's good!

December 31 - Ending the year with Pineapple Upside Down pancakes...delicious! (The brown is homemade cinnamon butter.)

January 1st - I'm very grateful that I can spend a week with my parents at their home and, while I'm happy to be going home, I'm a little sad to go, and very very grateful that I can call their home my home too.

Happy new year! I'm looking forward to a year of new pictures and experiences, and I wish the same for you.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T17:28:00.000-08:00

Catching up with my weekly grateful pictures:

December 19th - A 3:00 Caramel Brulee Steamer to pick-up my Monday afternoon.

December 20th - I love that the city decorates its artwork for the holiday.

December 21st - My boss got Crack Brownies as gifts for the board members, and oh my my, are they delicious!! Made by a gal at moderndrygoods.com.

December 22nd- With all the snow outside, I love that my geranium is blooming inside.

December 23rd - Delicious pizza in Larkspur with my family. (My nephew ran out of the picture at the last second, but he's there. )

December 24th - Mom and I took Corinne to the Children's service where we each got to hold a candle while singing silent night. No picture of that because I decided holding a 3 1/2yr old with an open flame steady was more important than a photo of the moment.

December 25th- I know it's only 365 pictures, but I'm including my Christmas day pictures here too.
I was up at 2:30 this morning so excited, and managed to fall back asleep around 4:00 am, to get up at 5:30 and go up to my brother's for Christmas morning. We don't know how to do a "small" Christmas.

A family of deer joined us this afternoon.

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Oh my pancakes!

2011-12-18T14:18:00.000-08:00

Dec 12th - So grateful for my bed after a very long Monday.

Dec 13th - Books! I found a great new used bookstore where all paperbacks are $2. Hooray!

Dec 14th - I like hearing the chimes from this historic clock tower near my office. It makes 8:00 sound a little better.

Dec 15 th - I discovered champagne mangoes and LOVE them!

Dec 16th - My boss and I were invited to a school to see skits the kids did about different philanthropists. They were great! Meet Oprah Winfrey below!

Dec 17th - Through skill - or just being the only other Harry Potter fan besides the person who brought the gift - I managed to hold on to the last Harry Potter movie at my friend Maura's Secret Santa party.

Dec 18th - I had brunch with my friend Becca this morning and was so excited when the food came (after the standard 40 minutes wait) and that my favorite was back on the menu that I forgot to take a picture.

Grateful For Beginnings and Ends

2011-12-11T18:27:00.000-08:00

This week's grateful pictures:

Dec. 5th - The first day of the Penny Harvest went off without a hitch, thanks to volunteers like Tami.

Dec 6th - I had the opportunity to help a blind woman today, after watching her try to navigate a snow-packed sidewalk, and it really gave my eyes a new perspective.

Dec 7th - I am so grateful for Brownies - particularly a leftover edge piece from a plate of thank-you brownies for my neighbor.

December 8th - I am very thankful for very helpful and supportive advisory board members.

Dec 9th - I have never been so grateful to see the back-end of something. Today it was leaving the UHaul I'd been driving around all week for the Penny Pick-Up.

December 10th - I have the privilege to work with a great bunch of kids and adults with the Young Philanthropists Foundation's Impact Factory.

Dec 11th - Making pink pancakes with my two of my all-time favorite people, my niece and nephew. Babysitting them overnight has set me up for smiles for the next two weeks till I see them again.

This Week's Pictures

2011-12-04T17:44:00.000-08:00

In my second week of my 365 picture project, I've discovered in the little bit of extra effort it takes to pull out a camera or phone that I am grateful for things I might have otherwise missed.

Nov 28th - This was the view on my way to a business meeting on Monday, pretty tough to take.

Nov 29th - Every couple of weeks I help kids with homework before school at Colombian Elementary. The little guy I worked with this morning made me smile - though I didn't take a picture of his face for privacy reasons.

Nov 30th - This is my view each morning going in to work, and lit up when I leave -though those pics came out too blurry.

Dec 1st - Came home and my angel of a neighbor had shoveled my drive and walk - something I was truly grateful for.

Dec 2nd - This is one of those moments I was so grateful to have my camera. I see things all the time that would be great to capture on film, but rarely have the time to stop or a camera on hand. Today I had both to capture these little birds trying to warm themselves in the sun.

Dec 3rd - We were supposed to go cut our Christmas trees today, but it was too cold and snowy. So this is my alternative for a tree, and it makes me happy. (Hint, it's on a mirror.)

Dec 4th - Making Gingerbread houses with a good friend. My house had some serious structural issues.

I'm looking forward to seeing what pictures this next week will bring.

Where is Your Dental Floss From?

2011-11-27T15:33:00.000-08:00

A while ago, I noticed that my dental floss is made in Ireland, of all places. That got me on a kick to go around the house and see how many countries are represented without looking at souvenirs and gifts specifically from a country. In other words, how many things do I have around the house for regular use from other countries? I was surprised by the results! Of course every other thing is from China or Taiwan, but there were quite a few things from the USA, like all my thread for sewing.

Here is my list with 37 countries. How many do you have?

Ireland - Dental Floss
Spain - Buttons
Luxembourg - Dishes
France - glass cereal bowls
Scotland - Mugs
England - Perfume
Italy - House Key
Germany - Wet Wipes
Romania - Guitar
Denmark - Scrapbooking tape squares
Austria - Buttons

Nicaragua - Shorts
Brazil - Bandaids
Mexico - Light Bulbs
Honduras - Underwear
El Salvador - T-Shirt
Argentina - Wine
USA - Water Bottle
Canada - Gum

Japan - Biore Strips
Philippines - Chandelier light bulbs
Indonesia - Side Table
India - Pillow
Bangledesh - Underwear
Sri Lanka - Underwear
Thailand - Body Wash
Cambodia - Jeans
China - Every Other thing
Viet Nam - Candle
Taiwan - Music Box
Hong Kong - Buttons

Australia - T- Shirt
New Zealand -Wool Yarn

Turkey - Sheets
Pakistan - Wash Cloth
Jordan - Sweat Pants

Tanzania - Beaded Necklace

Taking a look at how many things are manufactured here versus another country was a real eye opener, on many levels.

For my Grateful pics I have the following:

Thursday Nov 24th - Dad and I went to the Western Slope to check my 90-year-old grandmother out of the hospital and discuss her future. While parts of the trip were stressful, and unpleasant, Grandma was so appreciative that we could spend Thanksgiving with her that I was grateful to be able to make her happy.

Friday Nov 25th - The scenery on the western slope is beautiful - these are the Draperies at the base of Grand Mesa.

Saturday November 26 - Road trips with Dad are always good, no matter where we're going or what we're going to do.

Sunday November 27th - Occasionally I'm at my folks for Sunday morning tea, and it is always a great way to start the week, with philosophical discussions over the editorials and life in general.

365 Pictures

2011-11-22T19:14:00.000-08:00

Since September, I have been writing down 3 things every day that I am grateful for. These grateful tidbits have ranged from working out to Buffy the Vampire episodes in the morning, to gratefulness for my family, hot chocolate, being born a woman in America, new shampoo, etc.

Another friend of mine alerted me to a very similar project started in Australia called 365 Grateful where the bloggers have started movements for not only writing down the things they're grateful for, to not complaining for a week, to taking a photo a day for the things they're grateful for. That appeals to me on a major level.

Starting Thursday, Thanksgiving, I will start my 365 photos of gratefulness, taking a picture each day of something I am grateful for. I am excited for the challenge and the creativity that will come out of this, and the opportunity to share it with you.

Things That Make Me Go Mmmmm....

2011-08-22T12:12:00.000-07:00

I was going to post about the blatant inconsistencies I have seen recently in our judicial system, from the sticker on the gas pump that states you'll lose your license if you pump and go without paying - (while if you drink and drive, they'll just ticket you three or four times till you kill someone, and even then, you may get to keep your license), or the 164 years a bank robber got sentenced to, versus the child molester of multiple children getting 40 years, or the man forcing a minor into prostitution getting 9 years. I was going to post about there seeming to be an obvious disconnect between our judicial system's priorities, but I decided not to because it's Monday and I'd rather focus on something good.

So instead, I'm listing some of the little things that make me smile. Any of these familiar to you?

* Finishing, then starting a new journal. All those fresh pages waiting for the possibilities!
* New flavor of body wash!
* Listening to my 3 year old niece talk.
* The earthy summer smells on my morning walks.
* Catching a glimpse of a fox or coyote on those walks.
* Jello
* Marking off lots of things on a to-do list. (Sometimes I add things I've just done so I can mark them off.

* A really good cup of hot chocolate, with real whipped cream.

Ritz and Bikers

2011-08-01T11:11:00.000-07:00

Continuing the bare-pantry food challenge from last week, I discovered that Ritz crackers make all the difference in a ho-hum meal. I had fresh chopped garlic, butter, eggs, cheese, and fresh sliced mushrooms. Not bad, but not great, until I crumbled in a handful of Ritz crackers and voila! Instant yumminess! After that little dish, my fridge was severely depleted and I have since restocked.

Yesterday while out on a walk on the Highline Canal, I continued a little social experiment I've been conducting and decided it is time to report my findings. I am a friendly person (a little too friendly some might say) and say hi to folks on trails. Over many walks and hikes I have noticed quite a difference in the kinds of people that would return the greetings. In counting 40+ walkers or runners, only 6 did not say hello. Of those 6, 5 were plugged into head phones with eyes down. I counted 28 bikers, and of those, only 7 said hello. Of those 7, all were recreational bikers or families. If a biker was wearing a biking shirt, forget-about-it!
Colorado is a very friendly state, and a big biker state, but somehow, the two aren't connecting. I'm not willing to chalk up the brush-offs to hard work, as the older runner who looked like he was running through at heart attack managed to give me a little wave - twice. With all the push for more biker-friendly roads and attitudes from drivers, I think there needs to be a little PR push for bikers themselves to be more friendly. The trails don't need to be a place to meet-n-greet, and maybe I have been overly friendly to prove my point - which is - we're all sharing the space, ditch the above-it-all attitude and at least give a smile. Your heart-rate will benefit overall.

Deliciousness on a Dime

2011-07-24T18:35:00.000-07:00

I am a big budgeter and try to stick to my budget guns, even if there's a week left and seemingly nothing to eat in my house. Tonight though, I stunned myself even, by creating a really yummy meal out of the very literal odds and ends in the cupboard and fridge.

I had a box of mac and cheese - pretty standard, frozen peas and a can of tuna. Ok, tuna noodle casserole, nothing new, but not delicious. I upped the yum factor by mixing a handful of oyster crackers with a couple table spoons of left over feta chese and Gillmates roasted garlic and herb chicken seasoning. Spread that crumbly goodness over the tuna/peas/mac&cheese and bake for 10 minutes at 350 and voila! Much more upscale deliciousness!
My challenge this week is to see what other gourmet dishes I can come up with without going to the store. I'll be working mostly with canned, frozen, boxed, and condiments. The challenge is on!

The Water Is Wide

2011-07-16T19:50:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, my boyfriend and I went to Steamboat and had a fabulous time despite the weather. The rivers were raging and had overflown in many places, washing away footbridges in along the trail in a couple spots. We took in the farmer's market, the rodeo, and Strawberry Hot Springs (our favorite part!). Unfortunately on Sunday, the weather wasn't cooperating for the balloon launch, so we got to see a few go up, and then had to take a nap for lack of other indoor options, (another one of my favorite parts!). We hiked down to Fish Creek Falls, (next time we'll try to make it to the mythical lake up top,) and to the botanic gardens on our way out of town. We had a great time and we're already planning for our return trip next summer. That, and moving there in 20-30 years.

Scrambling and Gathering

2011-07-01T11:52:00.000-07:00

You know it was a good day when the next morning you can hardly move. That was how I felt after last Sunday's Denver Scramble. The Scramble is a scavenger hunt around downtown that was absolutely a blast! Some of the clues led us to 'event' stations, where we had to do things like build a Denver icon out of marshmallows and toothpicks, do some field day events like a water balloon toss, sing along with a piano man on 16th, etc. The registration fee was split between two organizations - mine being one of them - so it was truly all for a good cause, and I have the blisters to prove it!
The next day, I was so achy, sore, and done with walking...except I had to go to a site tour at The Gathering Place. I got over myself toot-sweet when I saw how amazing this place is! It is not a shelter, but a safe place and resource center for homeless women, children and trans-gender people to go to during the day. From showers, lockers, laundry facilities, mental and physical health resources, a food pantry and dining room, to GED classes, daycare and an art program called The Card Project, this place blew my socks off! This is truly one of those programs that not only do I feel proud that Denver can claim, but also that I get to interact with through my new job. Take a look at The Gathering Place and feel free to pitch in, whether it's donating used books for their quiet room/library, gently used clothing for their 'closet' or volunteering on a larger scale.

Happy Birthday To Me!

2011-06-21T17:27:00.000-07:00

I had a fabulous birthday weekend! I got a couple pieces of art from my brother and mom, a new bike from my boyfriend! And a very fabulous balloon from my 3-year-old niece! I had hardly made it in the front door of my parents house before my niece came bounding at me beaming with a giant lady bug balloon in tow.

Corinne picked this balloon out for me, and a freesia plant. She was so proud and excited to give them to me, and (amazingly for a three-year-old) understood that they were going home with me, not her, and that was ok! I have been smiling since about that little wonder and her gifts of love!

And here is the very cool painting my brother did of a picture of me and dad on the beach.

I don't have a picture of the piece my mom did yet, as it is getting the finishing touches before being handed over. This has been one fantastic birthday of very loving and thoughtful gifts. Thanks to all!

The Break Up

2011-06-15T19:39:00.000-07:00

I haven't written on my novel since December, when I handed over a draft to both my folks and my brother at Christmas for feedback. I just recently got said feedback from my brother and the gist is...he likes some of my writing, but the whole story needs to change. And the worst part is, it's not an unfounded critique, so I can't blame it on just his subjective take. I had actually suspected I'd get some of the criticisms I did.

So now I'm mulling, and stewing, and figuring out just how to break up with some of my favorite characters, and bulk up the others. Did Twain ever go through this? Steinbeck? (Hemingway should have.) When does the editing stop? My friend and fellow writer Mike White - Laughing Under Water Looks a Lot Like Drowning showed me his book, printed and bound, that he was still making edits to.

So, back to the drawing board I go, and I'll leave you with a picture from Grand Lake.

The Help

2011-06-01T16:07:00.000-07:00

I absolutely love opening a new book and knowing from the first page I'm going to love it. That doesn't happen very often, in fact, pretty rarely. In fact, I had to give Atlas Shrugged, one of my favorites, at least 100 pages to really get into it. This last Memorial Monday, I spent a delectable three hours in bed finishing The Help, by Kathryn Stockett. Her voices are very real, the relationships too, and the fabric of the story is unique and captivating. As I devoured the book on lunch breaks and snippets here and there, I tried to store away notes to myself on technique and savvy tips for an outstanding story. She is one of the writers I aspire to be on a shelf with. I also wanted to throw the book at those writing teachers and critics that say "write what you know" as an AhHA!! This is a white woman, writing in part from the perspective of two black maids in the 60's, and she did it flawlessly. An absolutely stunning read, and the movie is coming out in August.

Like It Was The End of the World

2011-05-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, May 21st, I went to the U2 concert here in Denver, instead of my eternal place of rest as was predicted. I did find it funny (and wondered if the song was part of the regular tour set) when U2 sang their song, The End of The World. The concert was phenomenal! I am not a crowd person, so I don't go to big concerts much, and you couldn't pay me to be on the floor right in front of the stage in the midst of all those people. I was much happier way up in the nose bleeds in my little seat, my sectioned off little space. The benefit from way up there is that we got to see it all. These guys have been around awhile, and they have perfected the art of performing. It is really something to get a chance to watch people who are experts at their craft.
Another aspect of the show that I happened to like, (though the idiots behind me didn't, and left - thank goodness), was that U2 is very involved in charitable organizations - Amnesty International and One in particular. During the show they had a few comments, video clips and songs with video dialogue interspersed all with messages around the work of these organizations and the band's beliefs. I say, power to them! Here is a group of men who have packed a stadium with 75,000+ people and they have a microphone and everyone's attention. I am pleased that they are using their fame and influence to try to affect good change in the world, at the very least in making some people aware. They have made no secret of their affiliations or beliefs before, and in going to see U2, you should probably expect these kind of messages. Go see Eminem or Guns N' Roses and you'll get a different kind of show. At one point toward the end, U2 had a video clip of the president-elect of Burma who until recently had been living under house arrest because the govt. refused to recognized her as the people's choice. I'm sure the two morons behind me who where shouting 'shut up already!' had no idea who she is or what her plight represents. And there will be some people like that. I understand wanting to hear good music sans agendas, but for U2, I also understand that that means listening to their album in my car, rather than hearing them live. And in this age of technologically modified music where singers can't carry their own tune in public, U2's songs sounded even better live, big and bold. They were definitely worth being on my bucket list.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

2011-05-15T19:59:00.000-07:00

While visiting an elementary school (for my new job! hooray!) I got to hear a presentation from Mercy Corps which is an organization started after 9/11 to help kids cope with disasters, both natural and other. Currently they are working in Japan, and the slides showed some of the wreckage there, and the cleared roads between piles of destruction so that emergency vehicles could get through. What amazed me and gave me goosebumps was that the presenter said she saw workers looking through the wreckage for remains of people, and if they came across something in tact, like a vase, they'd leave by the roadside in front of where that house would have been in case family members or survivors came back to the house. This absolutely stunned me, though in reflection, I can't say I'm too surprised that it is the Japanese doing this. Having lived there a year, I can absolutely believe that that was not a fluke incident, but a more common act of respect in that country.

Take those thoughts in contrast to our own natural disasters going on with the flooding of the Mississippi, and people in Tennessee being reluctant to leave their homes because others are coming in specifically to loot. Things are very, very wrong there, and I'm not talking about the wet. What has happened to respect?

Here are some shots of a few of the characters I had the pleasure of teaching in Japan.

Glorious Upheavals!

2011-05-08T16:03:00.000-07:00

A LOT happened this last week.
First, as we know, Bin Laden was killed. I want to comment on the number of flags present in the celebration pictures. I have a little flag for my front porch, and an old flag from WWI framed, but I don't have a big one. I was amazed, touched and very pleased to see how many people around the country from college campuses to the big city streets had big flags, and were displaying them proudly. This is quite the change in images from the usual bashing America gets, in large part from her own citizens. And though those bashings aren't always undeserved, I am heartened to see some pride displayed boldly around the country. It's about time.

Second, I had my last day at my school this last Thursday. A little bittersweet as I was counting down the minutes until certain students became someone else's issue, but also sad to leave others. I will miss a lot of the students, the teachers and admin.

Third, I spent all day on Saturday at my mom's church for a bazaar. It was my first, and I was selling my purses, jewelry and notecards. I just have to chalk it up to a learning experience, because it wasn't a real financial boon. The weather was so nice, no one wanted to be inside - or at least no one that knew about the bazaar, which weren't many. But, I got some good lessons for the next time, if there'll be one.

And last, my boyfriend and I had a paella party to celebrate both of our new jobs! And in doing so, we supported Adrian and Jose in their new business venture - paella catering. I wrote about them in an earlier post, but I have to say it again, because it was bigger and better! They came to my house and made the paella on their own portable propane stove, while telling us about the paella. They brought two appetizers, a dessert and two gallons of very delicious Sangria. The paella was fantastic, and plenty to feed 12 hungry people, with seconds, and enough for left overs. Guess what I'm having for dinner! And, I didn't have to clean any of it! They came this morning (on time to the minute) to pick up the dessert dishes, sangria jugs and paella pan. I will definitely be having another paella party, they were worth it! spanishfoodincolorado@gmail.com.

Walk with a Maasai

2011-05-01T18:40:00.000-07:00

Last week I saw a Maasai warrior named Samwel Melami Langidare Mollel speak at the Castle Rock Library. He was fascinating! Dressed in his traditional Maasai clothes, Samwel spoke of his culture and customs in the Ngorangora crater in Tanzania. He spoke about the differences between women's roles and men's, and that they only see each other once or twice a week to keep the peace and respect. Men don't eat with the women because women have a bad spirit in their eyes that could give the men bad luck. He told us what to do if we wake up in a hut and a snake has cuddled up next to us in the night, explaining how to swing the snake around by the tail and whack the snake on the wall.
His father is a healer and Samwel talked about the different kinds of plants that the Maasai use for various ailments, as well as for a certain smell so the wildlife won't bother them. He helpfully suggested that if we were out walking with him in the bush, a lion might attack one of us, but not him.
With that in mind, he gave quite a few great stories about walking safaris he has led from his village. Samwell has started a safari company, www.maasaiexpeditions.com that is advertised as being 100% Maasai owned and operated, and benefits the local economy and traditions.

Clearly, the highlight of things I've learned this last week was all the information from Samwell. I am definitely adding one of his walking tours to my bucket list.

Change Is In The Air

2011-04-25T19:03:00.000-07:00

Although I have enjoyed my current job for the most part, teaching ESL,I'm ready for a change and so I've got a new job! I'll be working with kids and philanthropy programs and I am excited! I went to a murder mystery dinner theater to celebrate, who knew Denver had one of those?! It was a blast, except for the hokey conga line. In fact, if you look up hokey in the dictionary, you'll see conga line right after pokey. But the acting was fun, the rest of the audience participation was a hoot, and the food was delicious.
I start my new job in two weeks and I am so excited. Things that would have stressed me out last week, didn't phase me today. I started to feel my blood pressure boil, and then remembered: they're only my issues for two more weeks. Then I get a whole new batch of issues, and I am ready for them!

Some things I learned this week - for my Bucket List - Eisa in Arabic means Jesus, and there is an Arabic surname, Aleisa.
Torpedos were first used during the civil war, Denver has a fun mystery dinner theater, and the word 'sass' used to refer to root vegetables. Sassafrass makes more sense now.

Atlas Shrugged

2011-04-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite books, and probably the most influential in my life, has been made into a movie which I saw last night. Although Atlas Shrugged, Part 1 had no marketing budget, the theater was filled to the front row on opening night - tax day of all days. If the movie were just for me, then I'd give it a thumbs up. The cinematography was great, the music was very nice, the acting was pretty good. And of course I love the story, and I do buy the philosophy. But I had bigger hopes for this movie, hopes that this would spread the sense of Rand's philosophy to a public that isn't interested in reading a book that's more than 1,000 pages long, in very small print. Unfortunately, the movie seemed to be made more for the current followers of Rand, assuming they've all read the book, and not so much to reach any new people. The book is a story as well as a vehicle for the philosophy. I was hoping the movie would be more of the story, and let the actions (philosophy) speak for itself without any monologues or stilted proverbs. The movie was pretty much preaching to the choir, and I don't think it will change any minds on the other side. I do hope it will stir debate in the blogging world, and even further.

It was very good to see the silent other side present and accounted for, and to hear the applause at the end of the movie from everyone, that this movie and story does represent principles and a kind of integrity that is not dead or even dormant, just not represented in the media.

Here is a poem I wrote back in high school, inspired by the book.

The Hero

When the last light falls

and falls to dark,

that’s when we will begin

we the few who love our lives

will fight and we will win.

A single man faced the wall,

more gathered close behind.

They were here to take his life,

or rather, take his mind.

“You know the truth” a short man said,

“you know we want what’s best,

we need your mind to make it work –

and then we’ll let you rest.”

The single man said nothing

but “this life and mind are mine.”

The men shouted “It’s your duty!

you can’t just leave us all behind!”

The man with the mind gave them a smile,

then turned and looked away.

The men began to scream and shout

“don’t you care what the people say?

“We told them we would save them,

we told them we had you,

and you would bring us all to safety,

there is no more we can do!”

“You have to!” they all chanted,

“think of your fellow man!

Just sacrifice your mind to us

and we can finish our plan.”

The man with the mind just smiled,

and induced a state of fear

among the men who shivered,

and cried when made to hear:

“When the last light falls

and falls to dark,

that’s when we will begin,

we the few who love our lives

will fight and we will win.”

KEH

Things I've learned this week: How the Taliban came to power in Afghanistan, that walruses look white in the water because they're conserving heat and all there blood is at their core, while they look pink on land because the capillaries in their skin dilate; the ukelele is actually a Portuguese instrument called a machete, and became a ukelele when the british officer nicknamed ukelele ( Hawaiian for 'jumping flea') made it popular, peaches are native to China, and I can be happy for someone else, even in the face of my own big disappointment.

More Girl Power

2011-04-10T16:03:00.000-07:00

Last week I finished reading Half The Sky by Nicholas D. Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn. It had more stories on abuse of women in the sex trade, but also abuses of women's basic human rights around the world. Sound depressing? It would have been very if that were all the book was about. Instead, it reports on the abuses, and then acts on a kind of philanthropic how-to guide to best practices. Besides a list of organizations in the back of the book, it gives a rundown of different policies or organizations that tried and failed and why- not because the situation is hopeless, but that the approach was inappropriate or ineffective. Half the Sky is well written and inspirational, and is on my list of must-reads.

As for my daily learning tidbits, here are some highlights: the Oscar statuette got his name his very first year from the librarian at the academy, saying the thing looked like her Uncle Oscar, a fruit farmer and wheat farmer in Texas.
The word Halibut comes from the old English word for flat fish - butte - and holy, put together.
And I learned too late that chevre is, unfortunately, a kind of goat cheese. Here's to trying new things!

Check, and Check!

2011-04-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

Since my last post on my bucket list, I have been adding to and working on checking things off. Last week I checked off sending a 'thinking of you' letter to someone 'just cause'. I need to do that more often because it had a very positive effect. (That can go hand in hand with 'using all the stationary I own'.) By the end of April, I should be able to check off another one which is to learn something new every day for a month. So far, on April 1 I learned that in the US, there was a direct correlation in the drop of maternal mortality and infant deaths with the introduction of women's right to vote. Girl Power!

On April 2nd, I learned that the word 'boondoggle' was first used in 1930 by a boy scout leader, and later used by opponents to the New Deal to describe some projects as money-wasting and unproductive.
On April 3rd, I learned that it was Chairman Mao (of all people) that curbed a lot of the abuses against women in Chinese culture with the onset of Communism and said that women "held up half the sky." Quite the enlightened crack-pot.

As an aside, yesterday I picked up a book called 'Chairman Mao Would Not Be Amused', a collection of modern Chinese fiction. Just the title amuses me, I hope the writing does as well.
In the vein of spring cleaning, renewal, new ideas, motivation and such, here is a little poem I wrote yesterday after our 84 degree weather.

The first spring day
I absorbed the sun,
now I itch all over.

KEH

Bucket Lists

2011-03-25T09:53:00.000-07:00

For a few years now I have had a handy little book called 2,001 things to do before you die, by Dane Sherwood. In the spirit of bucket lists, mine mostly consisted of places to go around the world. But when I sat down to start thinking about what things I really want to do, the world suddenly opened up. And this book has been quite the inspiration. Out of the 2,001 things, I have already done quite a few. There are a lot more listings that I have no intention of ever doing or wanting to do, like 'Waking up next to Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie', or 'Climb the highest summits on all seven continents'. The fun has been in crossing off those things and coming up with my own. Last year I accomplished two: take a hot air balloon ride and learn to blow glass. In the middle of my own personal recession, some of the more spendy things are a little out of reach at the moment, so I'm going to work hard at knocking off a few of the more sedentary goals, like: Learn something new every day for a month, Read a romance novel, or, Do an open mic night at the Mercury Cafe. Look for my progress here, and let me know of your own bucket list ideas if you wish.

I've been a little lax on the 'writing' part of the blog, so here's a recent poem.

Happier

Happier is that obnoxious guy
I avoid at parties
He's always looking
for someone better to talk to
with better connections and
a leg up.
Or, he's got better stories
than my little trip,
a bigger house,
a better car,
a more lucrative position.
But I have found
the loophole, because I know.
I used to be happier.
Then I lost weight, a few letters,
and now I'm perfectly happy.

KEH

The View from Frog Level

2011-03-18T14:10:00.000-07:00

I relearned an important lesson from my almost-3-year old niece last weekend. I say relearned because I've already been here before, but it's always very helpful to have a reminder.
I had taken my niece and nephew, Corinne and Connor, to the Wildlife Experience which is pretty much a children's museum with a focus on...wildlife. They have some great live frog exhibits that Corinne was really into. At one particular terrarium, I saw the frog right away, hunkered down in some moss. There was a little pool too, but I didn't see any frogs there. I started guiding Corinne, "can you find the frog? He's hiding, in some moss." She looked around, and then stared at the water. "He's not in the water, babe, he's hiding on the land, can you see him?" Though Corinne is often quite verbal, she didn't say anything, just looked around and then continued to stare in the water. I knelt down to her level to see if she could even see the frog I was looking at, and there, in the water, were two frogs staring right at us. They were hiding under a little ledge that had looked like just a solid rock from my giant's angle in the clouds. But Corinne had found them right away, reminding me that there are many angles to everyone's terrarium and my angle isn't the only right one.

And, kudos to my super tactful niece for not up and saying "What the heck are you talking about Aunt Kelly? They're right THERE you idiot!"

Hooray for Paella!

2011-03-11T09:46:00.000-08:00

The teachers and I had a fabulous treat for lunch yesterday. One of our students from Spain is starting a business with his friend, making paella. We teachers were more than happy to be used as test subjects. They brought in an enormous pan of paella, complete with mussels, little clams, calamari, baby shrimp and chicken; two different kinds of a tortilla espanola (like an omelet with potatoes), and croquetas (like creamy hush puppies). The dishes were delicious, and it was so fun to share in the enthusiasm of Jose and Adrian over their new business adventure. They want to bring the meals to customers, complete with Sangria (yum!) and a dessert, and either make the food at someone's house, or deliver the already cooked goods.

Being an entrepreneur myself, it was so much fun taking part in someone elses' adventure. And I'm already plotting the next paella meeting among my own friends and family, particularly my mom who needs to give Spanish food a second chance after her bad experiences in Spain however many decades ago.

If you're interested, shoot them an email at spanishfoodincolorado@gmail.com. They're called The Finest of Spanish Cuisine.

A Little Perspective

2011-03-04T09:05:00.000-08:00

Driving home earlier this week I noticed that gas prices had jumped to $3.15. I immediately looked at gas gauge and grumbled as I imagined the gas column having to wiggle out more money from my already very tight budget. And though budgets and being able to afford needs like gas are real concerns, my grumbling was humbled when later in the week we got a visit from a student I hadn't seen since maybe September. Mohammed is from Libya and he recently returned, having escaped through Tunisia. He was happy to see us, but shaking as he told us that two of his friends were killed, and his family is still there. All he's been doing for the last two weeks he's been here is watching the news about his country. Of course his mother is begging him to stay here, out of harm's way, but he wants to go back to be with them.
Thinking of all the implications of a man's country in complete murderous, political turmoil, and whether or not he should return, puts a little more light on the plight of my gas money. Something to think about.

The First Step

2011-02-24T15:12:00.000-08:00

I have found a topic that I am passionate about. Others get livid over animal rights, for some it's the homeless, and for others it is victims of natural disasters. For me, it is victims of the sex trade. I had heard a little here and there, but nothing jarred me so much as the movie Taken, with Liam Niesen, in which his daughter is abducted on a European vacation and sold into the prostitution underworld. Since that movie, I have been moved to do something, but where to start? And how to help?

Education is always key, so I have started trying to gather all the facts I can, and figure out a way that I can either contribute to a cause already in motion, or make waves myself. I just finished reading The Road of Lost Innoncence, by Somaly Mam, an amazing woman who has managed to make plenty of waves herself. She was sold into prostitution in Cambodia, and after managing to free herself, she has been working to free thousands of other girls in Cambodia, Thailand, Laos and Viet Nam where the sex trade in little girls and young women runs rampant. Somaly has started a couple of organizations to help girls and young women in these countries not only get out of prostitution, but learn skills to sustain themselves without having to go back to the life they were originally forced into for lack of other options. The organization here in the U.S. is http://www.somaly.org/ This is just the first step in finding how I can make a difference to these girls all over the world. The first step of many.

Live a little better

2011-02-17T15:50:00.000-08:00

A while ago, a man at the grocery story went out of his way to take my grocery cart to the cart coral for me. He was going in the opposite direction and it was such a small gesture but it completely brightened up my day. A day that had been mired in crap from the get go anyway. He was my knight in shining grocery cart.
More recently, I suited up to shovel my drive way, only to open the garage door and find my neighbor just finishing up in my driveway with his snowblower! The snow was thick and heavy and he saved me about 45 minutes to an hour at least. Just a little extra kindness thrown out there.

Here's my challenge, actually LOOK for ways to brighten someone's day. Return someone else's grocery cart for them, stick another quarter in the meeter, smile at a stranger. Do something out of the usual vain of do-good-ness.
Get into the habit of doing these things and you might surprise yourself, and others.

7 words

2011-02-11T10:27:00.000-08:00

I recently gave my creative writing class the assignment to summarize their lives in 7 words, no more, no less.
Here are a couple of my examples:

The world's an oyster, I'm still sand.

The world and I in a tango.

So far, so wonderful, bring it on!

Denver Photo Safari

2010-11-12T19:54:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago, a friend and I ventured out into Downtown Denver armed with our cameras and an eye for the odd angle. I have my little digital camera that badly needs a tripod, so quite a few of my shots turned out blurry, though a few of my favorites did come out. I'm adding a couple Denver Haikus to complete the mood.

Gorgeous profile,

daring on her scooter,

everything I've wanted to be.

Orange paint smeared

bright hibiscus

on a city bus window.

Comedy by Broccoli

2010-11-03T15:17:00.000-07:00

In high school, I did a famous monologue for auditions known as "the tunafish monologue". Google it and you'll get Laughing Wild, by Christopher Durang. A woman who is a few bananas short of a bunch gets very upset that a man is standing in front of the cans of tuna fish that she wants to get to, and becomes irate that he doesn't sense her needs. She ends up wacking him upside the head and, I still remember the line from high school, screams at him, "would you kindly move, a$^h*!#!!!"

I met this woman last week in a King Soopers - off Broadway - of all places. I was minding my own business over the broccoli when a woman stopped me to rant about how it was so difficult to get around in these places. "I mean, if it's not these stupid signs and all the produce, it's the morons by the hamburger." She goes on to explain that she was cooling her head in the produce section because she'd just had an 'incident' over in the meat department. This couple was just standing there, mulling over the meat and paying no attention whatsoever to this woman. She yelled at them, "move the F&*#$ out of my way already!" and was appalled when they did not respond favorably. She asked me, "do I really have to say 'excuse me' all the time?"

All the while I am imagining the tuna monologue and wondering if I said the wrong thing would she whack me with a yam, so I opted for smiling and nodding and inching toward the onions and escape. She went back over to the hamburger, and I assume she got what she needed because I never heard a store announcement for "code pink in the meat department," or, "cleanup in aisle 14, by the tuna fish."

Out of the Box

2010-10-24T19:37:00.000-07:00

Back in April and May when I was trying to determine my new direction, I was trying to fit myself into a tight little box - certain job skills, certain salary requirements, certain resume enhancements, etc.

I have found that happiness, elation, and opportunity are plentiful and overwhelming - outside that little box. I took what I thought was a step back to a simpler life with less money, and have instead taken a giant leap forward - above and beyond. I am in my element in the classroom, am finally teaching creative writing which is something I've always wanted to do, and opportunites seem to be camping on my doorstep. So here's to getting rid of the boxes, and daring to be happy.

I'm Back!

2010-10-17T14:59:00.001-07:00

My very long absence has been due to...laziness, job/career changes, multiple entrepreneur ventures, 2nd complete full draft of my novel! and other little life crises and adventures. So, to catch up -

I gave my old job the "bird" and quit when I was told that everything I'd created, all the new programs and all the children I'd reached, had been a waste of time. Now I'm teaching ESL for adults and loving it! And I'm getting quite the education myself in a variety of cultures, Saudi Arabian in particular.

I checked another item off my bucketlist in September. I went with a friend to Steamboat Springs for a ride in a hot air balloon! Amazing! Thousands of feet in the air with out an inflatable exit raft, floaty cushions or even a seat belt, and I was not the least bit afraid. Even leaning over and out of the basket for photos. And Steamboat springs was a fabulous place to have that little adventure too.

I'm working on starting up one business with some old colleagues - along the lines of financial literacy, and also starting up another with my own handmade works of art - bags and necklaces at the moment.

I have finished the 2nd full draft of my novel! Every step from here is an accomplishment for me, and record breaking!

I've had a change in scenery as far as friendships go, but all for the better. I think the hot air balloon is the perfect metaphor for my life this year - how much more buoyant I feel after losing some dead weight.

And it has been my pleasure and privelege to be able to design a syllabus and curriculm for creative writing for my ESL students, starting tomorrow! We're starting with blogs, and so, luckily, I'll be forced to post more often. And because I think my life has gotten more interesting...hopefully so will my posts!

The Power of Words

2010-02-28T10:47:00.000-08:00

I had an interesting review at work last month which inspired the following. I find it very interesting how 99% of the review was wonderful and fantastic, and that all got wiped out with one, scathing word.

Solid
This book gets thicker
with the words
plumping up the pages,
infusing the pulp.
Simple words, slanted words,
stained with emotion
and desires.
The solid force, the power
of words;
Vituperous.
She threw it at me,
though she couldn't say it.
All the vowels and the
other things folded in the
hiss on the tail.
It's followed me through
the halls, up and down
the stairs, curled under
my desk.
Waiting for another lambast
to sink vituperous fangs into,
poison, taint.
The word has a thickness
a solid whack.
Even on the page
I feel the bulge.

KEH

New Years goals and such

2010-01-16T10:27:00.001-08:00

One of my new years resolutions has been to write more poetry. That used to be my thing but now since I've been focusing all my energy on the novel, I've fallen out of practice. I am going to try to write one-two poems a week. We'll see if all of that 'practice' does anything for the poems.

Here's the latest:

Just Why

I repeat
over and
over their histories:
a tale of mice, and their tails
dangling from the eaves of
a pinecone;
another one found adrift
in the snow, a gift
under a Christmas tree.
That shell from him, a friend,
a hopeful romantic.
That shell from him, a lover,
a sad excuse.
That fragile rock from Outback
behind the cities, crushed
into white ink
for stony histories.
That star from the Oregon beach,
the one I didn't save.
That shell from...
it's slipped away, like the tide
it came in on.
I can't remember why
I keep it on the shelf with
the pinecone, a tale of mice,
and their tails...

KEH

1st Year Anniversary!

2010-01-11T17:21:00.000-08:00

As of today, I have been writing every day for at least 15 minutes for an entire year! I am so excited, I can't remember the last time I accomplished something like this.
I wish I could say I have a complete novel to show for it, but as of Saturday, I've decided to rewrite the whole outer story (half the book) from scratch, from a whole different perspective. I'm never going to finish at this rate! But, I'm excited about the project again, the rewrite has peaked my interest and I've got all sorts of ideas.
Tonight, I'm going to celebrate with Chocolate custard eclairs (always wanted to try those), 500 Days of Summer, a glass of wine and homemade beef stroganoff. Later this week I'm going dancing!
Thanks for all the support! Let's see what happens in another year of writing non-stop!

Christmas Tree!

2009-12-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

This year's Christmas tree is a little bit different, thanks to snow and freakin' cold temps that daunted even the most determined of the tree cutters (me and Dad.)
So, with a little creativity and Charlie Brown Spirit, here is my solution.

Oh Sylvia

2009-12-15T20:11:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and can make an excellent case for skipping the introductions that are mostly babble. The intro compared The Bell Jar to The Catcher in the Rye, (and we all know my thoughts on that piece of work), and said they were twins. Thank goodness I didn't let that stop me because I really enjoyed The Bell Jar. It is in no way the twin of that other book because A: something happens in The Bell Jar, B: it's well written, and C: it was written for different generations and yet it effected me without the need of any outside validation or justification. If the two books are at all related, Catcher is a sad little step child to The Bell Jar.

The Great Rye Debate...

2009-11-23T15:00:00.001-08:00

I got into a discussion this weekend about the 'greatness' of The Catcher in the Rye and here's where I stand (which I realize is in a lonely spot, but I'm still here):
if a book needs an explanation or validation - "you need to understand that when it was written this was groundbreaking" - because it doesn't hold up on its own through the ages, I don't think it's so great. Many people thought it was a great book then, but I don't think it has survived the test of time so well, unlike other books that were written then or long before that still move readers today, like: Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn, Atlas Shrugged, The Awakening, Gone With the Wind, The Scarlet Letter, The Great Gatsby - just to name a few classics. Most of the above were indeed dissected in school, but I enjoy reading them all - for fun. Yes, I said it! I enjoy reading and look for books that take me somewhere, involve me with the characters, move me in some way. I read Catcher in the Rye to see what all the hoopla was about, and at the end, I was still waiting for the hoopla. And when I was given the 'explanations' for all the hoopla, my response was 'oh. I still don't like it.'
Jackson Pollack did a similar thing. Groundbreaking style that hadn't been done before, (unless another artist's pet monkey had done something similar but the artist just didn't think the public would go for it, and now isn't he kicking himself - and the monkey), but without the name attached, now it's just splatter paint. Unlike Van Gogh who did a different style - that the public did not go for at the time, ironic - and now generations recognize the talent that my monkey certainly cannot master, no matter how hard we practice.

Anyway, my question should anyone care to answer is, if you need to explain the work - literature or art - does it deserve to share a shelf - or wall - with the classics?

One down...

2009-11-20T16:33:00.000-08:00

I did it! Exactly 5 years after the intial inspiration for the Asparagus Revival while sitting in the airport in Seoul, South Korea, I have a complete first draft of both the inner and outer stories! I am determined that the second draft won't take nearly as long, due to my new found discipline for writing every day for at least 15 minutes. I haven't missed a day since January - even on vacation, and being sick enough to draft a will - except for Halloween. But I worked on the book at 8:00 the next morning after only 4 hours of sleep, so that's gotta count for something.
Well, here's to fleshing the story out and getting it to a point where I am happy to let others see it.

Regular People

2009-09-26T15:31:00.000-07:00

So sorry for the long absence. I have been: road tripping to both grandma's, working and working, making Bee Bags, going to weddings, working, trying to be social, making more bags, working, and going to seminars on starting up websites - for the Bee Bags. Coming soon!

During all of that hubbub, I have been thinking about regular people. I don't consider myself a people person, I get frustrated easily with general idiocy and rudeness, and the crazy nasty things that regular people seem to do to each other on a regular basis - as the news would have us believe. But then, on the road trip home from my Indiana Grandma's, my dad and I were listening to The Unthinkable, Who Survives And Why When Disaster Strikes, which is a fascinating book all about the mindsets of people in disasters, and how it's the regular people in crises that turn out to be heroes while we're all waiting for the professionals.
In the website seminar this morning, one of the speakers was talking about the blogger who cooked through Julia Child's recipe book, and the speaker mentioned in passing that someone mentioned Julia to a writer at the New York Times. A regular person set a huge ball rolling. How many times does that happen with regular people, and half the time, no one is able to track the motion back. Who fired the shot that started the civil war? A regular, trigger happy guy whose name is lost to the history books.
And this morning I was sitting in City O' City, a neat little cafe/bar/restaurant in Denver, and their walls have tasteful collections of photo portraits of what looks like a random mix of people from all over the city. Looking from face to face, it's fascinating to see how much personality shows through in one small shot, how much their hair, hat, makeup or piercings can tell about a person. Regular people. I think there might have been 5 in the whole place that a talent agent MIGHT have picked out for modeling or film. But there were numbers of interesting looking people, with interesting stories.
And I realized regular people aren't so bad. I write about them. And - go figure - I'm one of them!
I want to go back to City O' City to see those photos, and get another mocha like the one I had this morning. And so that I can take a picture of the heart-shape in my mocha foam that inspired the following:

Signs

Mocha this morning,
topped with foamy white love
crowning the cup of
steamy, rich, inspiration.
The passion cooled, the cup
drained
and I saw
the shape had changed.
Two large white cheeks,
a long dark crack
riding the dregs,
unmistakable.
"Butt, I thought it was love!"

KEH

Full Moons

2009-08-13T15:51:00.000-07:00

Just a little whimsy I got while driving home one night under the full moon.

Full Moon Tonight

(Howl.)
He's hiding in the clouds
like a child with a flashlight
under the covers.
That doesn't diminish the pull he has,
the ruckus he's causing,
all inner turmoil
verging on meltdown.
The days are really not
that bad.
But when he comes out,
in full dress,
looking to cause trouble,
my optimistic front
dissolves.
I am tired.
He prods, what else?
So the list gets longer
the burdens bigger
the trials so much more
tumultous,
and I am reduced
to that child under the bed clothes
hiding with my flashlight,
murmuring I want, I want, I want -
and trying to decide just what.

-KEH

Cookie Monsters

2009-07-25T08:49:00.000-07:00

It has taken me so long to get on here because there is something going on with my computer cookies. Apparently they are taken care of now...who knows, I sure don't, and now I can post. So...
New purses!One is Bee Wild and the other was...Bee Classy, I think. Pictures of Bee Green and Bee Bright are coming soon. And I have a new customer - she's 11. I said I'd be thrilled to make her a purse as long as she has her parent's permission to spend all her allowance on a purse. As soon as I finish posting here, down I'll go to start working away.
And I have a new poem for you.

My Book

has wine stains on it,
dye on the bottom,
a muddy hue
seeping up yellow
reaching for the words
like a sunrise.

My book
was wading in wine,
something I long to do.
Feel the grapes pulse
and burst
under the balls of my feet,
the juice washes up between
my toes, flossing
and rinsing the grit and grime
collected in my days
away from grapes.
Bathing in sweet dark juices,
grown to please.
My book has pages
soaked in pleasure.

KEH

Camera One, or Camera Two

2009-06-24T19:08:00.000-07:00

I thought I was done with the rough draft of Wild Aspargus, the inner story to The Asparagus Revival that I've been working on. But I realized that I wasn't so passionate about the story any more, so how could I expect anyone else to get jazzed about the book either? Rather than trying to patch it up in a crazed editing spree, I decided to just start all over, completely from scratch and rewrite the thing. And that's what I've been doing and I like it SO much better. Now I want to see what you think. Here's the first page of the first version:

In a small house that smelled of beeswax, earth and baked sugar, a plump old woman sang to herself while she worked on a pie crust, creasing the edges into heart shapes.
Out the back door, the creek rippled out a rhythm, the birds in the willow tree sang in harmony, and the scandalous red sheets on the line between the willow and the house danced a flamenco. Granny Bea creased and pressed the dough into curves and hearts along the edge of the pie plate. She laughed wholeheartedly at some memory that flitted through her memory like a butterfly on vacation, smiling lovingly as she worked the memory into the crease, and then slowly, with a concentration that stilled her fingers and the breeze from the willow, Granny Bea dripped three tears into the center of the pie crust. She sprinkled sugar over the moist spot and continued to sing:
Granny Bea’s infamous wild asparagus pies had smoothed over many lover’s tiffs, warmed countless cold feet before the wedding day, and rekindled bonfires out of the cold, dusty ashes of her neighbor’s marriages. Her pies were also outstanding for cheering up the occasional gloomy mood, temper or common cold. Granny Bea had fixed all sorts of ailments, but few were willing to chalk up the magic concoction to asparagus pie of all things. Perhaps it was just Granny Bea’s magic ways, or something in the milk she’d serve with the pie. They’d sit in her cozy kitchen at her giant table and scour the room for any hint of a cauldron, unusual herbs or jars of strange powders. They scanned the tiles she had sealed in the splashboard behind her countertops, in which she’d etched her best recipes, poems and bits of wisdom, looking for a recipe with any hint of a dragonfly wing, or frog’s tongue. None of them seemed to notice that the recipe for wild asparagus pie wasn’t up there, but then who would look for magic in wild asparagus?

And the second, rewritten - both unedited.

There was a willow. And a line that stretched from the great grandmother tree to the house with red sheets dancing a flamenco. The top half of the Dutch door opened wide into a kitchedn that smelled of gingersnaps out of the oven. And the old woman at the counter hummed as she made a pie. Her hair was combed back into a French twist, and there were flour handprints on the behind of her navy blue skirt. To watch her, one might think this was any old woman, making any old pie, in any old kitchen.
But this was Granny Bea, making her special wild asparagus pie, in her kitchen where magic was known to reside.
Granny Bea had a bakery in town which she stocked with brownies and pastries, tarts and breads and buns that had the town salivating just moving in the shop’s general direction, which was on the north end of Main Street. But customers and friends could not get her wild asparagus pies in the bakery. Those pies were served up by invitation only, reserved for special causes.
The brownies were good for hay fever. The tarts for tiresome temperaments of all sorts. The peach pastries usually preceded a small wish coming true. And the glazed donuts worked wonders on bunions, warts and corns.
But the asparagus pies - their specialty was love. Whether it was love lost, love worn out, too much love or not enough, unrequited or unrealized, the wild asparagus pies were cupid’s own pastry of choice.

Thoughts?

Bee....Sophisticated

2009-05-30T11:27:00.000-07:00

I have another purse to show...and don't get too excited, it's already spoken for. Not to worry though, more are on their way.

This morning I laid in bed for three hours finishing a book, and cryed my eyes out too. I can't remember the last time I read a book that lost track of time for me and emptied my tear ducts. And go figure - it was The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants by Ann Brashares. I don't care what age it's supposed to be for - I hope my own writing will move people of any age like that. Speaking of...

I've decided as of this morning to rewrite the inner story of the Asparagus Revival. Wild Asparagus needs to be in a different voice than the rest of the story as it's supposed to be written by a mister Sam Grady, and I decided the best way to go about that is to rewrite it. So here goes!

A Little Vacation

2009-05-25T17:38:00.000-07:00

I've been in Indiana all week visting family and my grandmother in particular who is not doing well at all. If only we didn't need these pesky hips. When I break mine, I hope it's doing a saucy salsa or running from a mountain lion, something adventurous.
So I'm back and have another purse to show...but I'll be posting pictures later, of my purse and the sweet black kitty that befriended Mom and I while in Indiana. I'm about to sign off to finish typing the rest of the novel that I have written in longhand. I feel like the what I have now of the novel is the pencil sketch. Soon I'll be outlining it in ink, and then I'll add the color and dimensions. At least that's how I feel it's working, not necessarily how I intended it to go. This is the longest I have worked on any project, and the longest any project has been. I'm in uncharted territory and it has been an adventure figuring out how to make it into a real story. It's like raising a child (I imagine), in that I thought I knew how to do it because so many have done it before me, but turns out I don't have a clue! And I'm just bumbling along, doing the best I can and hoping it won't hate me when it's a teenager.
I am enjoying the ride though. And at least with this child, I don't have to deal with diapers.

Now what am I doing?

2009-05-04T08:19:00.000-07:00

I'm still working on that novel; I axed Ruby and Elliot and then decided I liked a couple of their moments together too much so I brought them back with a little bit of a makeover. And I've got to figure out what everyone is wearing, because not only does it help solidify the date of the story, but it may be more interesting than assuming they're wearing something rather than wandering around neked. Or, maybe not.
But my new adventure is making purses! I'm embracing the entrepreneurial spirit and designing and making these fabulous things. I sold my first one this last Thursday and have colleagues at work asking for their own, as well as holiday orders. I'm very excited! Now I just have to get production down to a reasonable time and I'll be set! Take a look! I'll let you all in on some of the novel in a little bit.

I did it!

2009-04-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

As of this morning, I have completed the first full rough draft of my novel,
The Asparagus Revival. I've been prancing around the house - yes, prancing - with the attitude of "There's nothing I can't do!" Let's hope that attitude follows me into the editing process. Hooray for magical 15 minute moments, days off of work and Mom's rhubarb pie for breakfast which all made this possible.

As for the fortune cookie story - I'm thinking short story and more of that will be coming soon.

Three Openings

2009-04-07T16:33:00.000-07:00

I started a writing class last Monday on stories and so far - out of the two Monday night classes so far, it's been fun. Not at all like the bogus workshops I suffered through in college where we were graded on how much we could 'constructively' tear each other's work to shreds. I'm actually getting something useful out of this class.
For last night's assignment we had to write three different openings to the same story, or to three different stories. Here are mine:

1.
"You are entering a time of great promise and overdue rewards." Allison crunched the fortune cookie and smiled. Ever since she had ditched the unreliable horoscopes and moved to fortune cookies for her daily compass, she had felt that she was more and more on the right track. Except for that one that had said "Your doubts should disappear early this month." Well, she shrugged, in every batch of apples there'll be a rotten one.

2.
Allison smiled at the receptionist and looked at the clock again. She had been 10 minutes early for the interview, and now Mr. Ephram was 15 minutes late. She rummaged through her purse, finding a mint and a fortune cookie from yesterday's lunch. Allison popped the mint and cracked the cookie, letting the pieces fall into her purse as she read, "There is yet time for you to take a different path."

3.
Allison looked up at the climbing wall from her indentation on the mat. Her fingers were blistered, her will to go on - climbing - dented and bruised, and ther faith in the fortune cookie slipping. Her last fortune had said "Now is the time to enjoy trying something new." But pottery had been a flop, hot yoga was a hot mess, nothing but dandilions grew from her gardening endeavors and now rock climbing had been a complete failiure. And she had an awful wedgie. She had cracked open another cookie yesterday and the fortune read "there is yet time to take a different path." She sighed and wiggled out of her harness.

Which do you like best?

Give or Take

2009-03-30T08:39:00.000-07:00

It was kindly pointed out to me that my 50 word story actually has 51 words! Woops! And I decided to change it a little anyway, but thanks for the encouragement Stephanie.

So here's the revised version and the one I'm going to send out, because it is indeed 50 words.

It is said that a butterfly flapping his wings on one side of the world causes a hurricane on the other. Buddha, in all his rotund wisdom, grew worried. "Oh! I waved to Grandma this morning!" Buddha exhaled a big belly sigh, and on the other side of the world...

50 Words

2009-03-27T15:56:00.000-07:00

My mom told me about a fiction contest for a story that is no more and no less than 50 words. 50 words is not much. So here's the story that I will be submitting:

Breezes
By Kelly Hayes

"It's true, your holiness. I heard the white man say: butterfy flap his wings here, make hurricane on other side of the world." If the breeze from a butterfly's wings could do that, what about birds? What about an eagle? Buddha let out a big belly sigh and across the world...

What's Your Favorite Vegetable?

2009-03-22T08:51:00.000-07:00

On Friday I was out at an elementary school all day for their enrichment day. I was playing my Great Savings Race with 3rd graders and after determining that more than a few of the 3rd grade boys are saving for Ferraris and Lamborginis (I can't spell that but neither can they!) I headed to the bathroom for a quick break. In the child sized stalls ( I couldn't find the teacher's bathroom) I was doing my thing when I heard a litte voice from a few stalls over - "Are you a 3rd grader or a 5th grader?"
I'm an adult.
"Oh. What's your skin color."
White.
"What's your favorite fruit?"
Watermelon - which actually it's a toss up between cherries, peaches and watermelon but I was under pressure!
"What's your favorite vegetable?"
Peas! I got that one right.
At this point we have both emerged from our stalls to wash our hands and there is this teeny 3rd grader going on about asparagus and isn't it just the greatest vegetable in the world? Can you count asparagus as a vegetable? I said I think we could and she gave me the biggest grin like I'd just said I have a plateful for her right there in my purse. She was a little fashion diva with her winter scarf tied around her butt and dragging on the ground and she chatted up asparagus with me all the way back to our classrooms - all the while sashaying like that scarf was the most brilliant fashion idea anyone has ever come up with and she was the first to think of it.

A few days before that, I was playing a credit game with some 18 yr old boys who were about to be out in the big wide world on their own. When I explained one of the latest credit card fraud scams to them, one of the boys said "well that's a bowl of F*%$." I have never heard it put more accurately or eloquently.

This is how I get to spend my days!

I'm Free!

2009-03-08T10:35:00.000-07:00

I have been wandering around my house in seventh heaven all week. My roommate moved out and I am going it on my own! I can leave the dishes in the sink if I want to - and I do - my shoes are by the garage door - Uh oh! - and I can sleep in or wake up and vaccuume nekid at 6 am if I want. Oh the possibilities! But seriously, I'm loving being on my own. It's not lonely at all and I am happy as a clam.
Now, if only I could find the right paint color in all those cans in the garage to do touch ups in my new guest room. (I have a guest room!!) I did touch-ups last night with a big "what the - ? Crap." because it definitely was not the right color.

Still writing 15 minutes! This is record breaking for me!

Happy Belated Birthday!

2009-02-25T17:33:00.000-08:00

A little shout-out to Stephanie, Happy Birthday, I hope it was wonderful!

Busy busy things going on - still writing for 15 minutes every day! I even took my notebook to my Mom's women's retreat this last weekend and still managed to get in my 15 min. despite the silly stringing bandits and short sheeters. These older women put me to shame with their jokes and energy!
I'm starting Dinner For Six this weekend, so I may have a lot more writing material after that. And I am losing a roommate this weekend. She's going to her space, I will have mine and I am so excited!! I may be finding out new and wonderful recipes for Ramen noodles more often than not, but it will be worth it!! At least I'll have the Dinner For Six to get me one real meal a month.

Hooray for freedom, adventures, and forging on with writing! Oh, and happy birthdays!

Chesch!

2009-02-16T17:44:00.000-08:00

That's 'hi', spelled phoneticaly, in Polish. Way back in 2003 I had a litte jaunt teaching English as a foreign language in good 'ol Poland and had a great time. I'm still in touch with Jan (Yan), one of my students, and he sends me updates of his family and I do the same. He made the following card for me on my last day with photoshop and inside he'd printed a poem I'd shared with the class. Please note - I was not pregnant - not even with delicious pierogies, I'm holding a waterbottle and papers.

The Sailor’s Soul
By Kelly Hayes

A sailor’s soul
a wandering heart
two tired feet besides.

Restless dreams
in lonely beds
a pair of open eyes.

A rambling way
a flowing urge
no home for man or child.

No destination
no home port
no chance to tame the wild.

Just Ducky

2009-02-09T15:21:00.000-08:00

A little while ago(and by that I mean August)I was thinking about the phrase, 'get your ducks in a row' and out of that came this little poem, just for fun.

One duck, two duck, three duck go!
Slowly floating my ducks in a row.

House duck, job duck, money duck rock!
The love duck's flying around the block.

Goal duck, dream duck, wish duck blow!
Plenty of wishing weeds do grow.

Friend duck, home duck, happy duck hey!
Ducks rowing up and on my way.

Well, the ducks have changed their flying patterns recently, and by patterns I mean...scattered to the winds!!

So the poem now reads like this:

One duck, two duck, three duck four,
Home duck's stressed a little more.

friend ducks - love duck out of sight,
gusty winds have changed their flight.

Job duck's fine but feeling snappy,
health duck's been a little crappy.

Money duck, family duck, writing duck, whew!
At least those three know what to do!

It sounds like my life, or ducks, are falling apart...but really, I think my ducks have always been a little schizophrenic, I just need to put out a little extra-yummy duck food and threaten them with Barbara Streisand songs to get them back in line. Bring out the big guns Kelly!

The 15 Minute Novel

2009-01-25T08:42:00.000-08:00

It's working! I'm going on my third week of writing for 15 minutes every day. I write before I go to bed, and even some nights when it has been A DAY and I am exhausted, I still pluck up to write because "it's ONLY 15 minutes" and "I can't break the streak now." So this novel that I started writing 5 years ago...very sporadically mind you - may actually come to fruition in 15 minute spurts! Whatever works I guess.

Meanwhile, on the home front, it is snowing, I'm drinking tea out of my Dancing Bunnies Pot and gearing up for a 15 minute session to spruce up my latest short story, Crickets, before I send it off to the 2009 Unknown Writers Contest at www.denverwomanspressclub.org.

Very cool website

2009-01-19T08:41:00.000-08:00

Before I head off to the land of the rising sun, I've been checking out other writer's blogs and websites and came upon this one. I'm very impressed and inspired and also want to go get her book, now that I've seen her site. That's one successful website. It also has fun recipes...Stephanie, you might want to check it out too.
www.rosekent.com

Newsflash!!! Writing is a job!

2009-01-19T07:52:00.000-08:00

Who knew?
I know I'm a little slow on the uptake, but it is finally dawning on me how much work being a writer/author is. From doing the actual writing, to researching editors and publishers, not to mention agents, to the publishing/editing process, to then marketing and promoting my own book, booking book talks and signings at schools, libraries, bookstores - getting my name out there in a blog or website...sheesh!!
But the first step is acceptance and now that I'm able to wrap my head around the reality of the situation - thanks to reading the articles in the Children's Writers and Illustrator's Writer's Market book - I am readjusting my belt and going for it. I feel like I'm at my first day of my third job. First two jobs - full time Outreach Coordinator teaching financial literacy to kids. I get to make money and boring economics fun. Second job, part time teacher at a language school teaching English to adults. And now for my third job...I feel like I need a new pencil case or something.
Amazingly, it's the simplest tip that has helped me dive headfirst back into the writing mode. I've got an egg timer by my bed and have been setting it for 15 minutes when I get into bed and write for 15 minutes every night. That doesn't sound like much can get accomplished, but so far I've just been writing up the character outlines for The Asparagus Revival and what a difference those 15 minutes have made! Granny Bea is a complex woman! And I haven't even gotten to her background story of how she learned to make magic asparagus pies. And isn't it intereting that the antagonist of the story is the one I most see myself in, there's a therapy session somewhere in there I'm sure.
But overall, with these 15 min. sessions have flipped a creative switch in me and I am seeing inspiration, ideas and character details everywhere! There aren't enough 15 min. segments in the day to take care of all of them!
I'm thinking I need to add some software to my savings wishlist - Dragon Naturally Speaking. I heard about it at a workshop and it's supposed to allow you to speak your writing to the computer and it types it all in. Hmmmmm. I wonder if it knows how to spell flibberty jibbit. Do I know how to spell flibberty jibbit?

Off to work on my Lazy J animal ranch story. I think Mexico is going to take a back seat to Japan so I'm off to the land of the rising sun.

I leave you with another poem that I sent off to The Iowa Review. Enjoy.

Midnight Pie
By Kelly Hayes

The grandfather
clock is sleeping,
unlike the pair of us,
Grammy and I,
scrounging in the kitchen
for cherry pie,
sweet cherry filling
for the hole left gaping,
even after words,
flowers and goodbyes.
As we crumble the crust
together we agree,
not so much a hole, as
a door gently shut,
and a window flung wide
for souls and
spring breezes.

Some Poetry and Lists

2009-01-14T14:53:00.001-08:00

Poetry to come, but first...I am a list person, a listist if you will, and should also invest in the post-it note industry seeing as how I am a valued customer. Imagine my delight then when Real Simple magazine's January issue featured tips on list making - nothing I don't already know - but also had composed some lists that famous people may have kept. I tried to cut and paste here, but they don't have the lists on the website...so here are my favorites:

Written by Brian Barrett, Chris Colin, Christopher Healy and Rebecca Traister,

Annie Oakley
__ Get my gun.
__ Buy more playing cards.
__ No business like show business? Confirm.
__ Try out new spur polish.
__ Go see what Frank's doing.
__ Do it better.
__ Sitting Bull's birthday tomorrow!
__ Show at 8. Shoot to thrill.

Genghis Khan
__ Pillage.
__ Plunder.
__ Have shirt taken in.
__ Pillage.
__ Pillage.
__ Seven O'Clock parent-teacher meeting.
__ Plunder.
__ Pillage.

Fred Astaire

__ Wash ceiling.
__ Take cravat-tying lessons.
__ Find something new to twirl (am tired of canes and umbrellas)
__ Buy another case of floor wax
__ Make peace with Gay Divorcee jokes.
__ Show Ginger new top hat.
__ Try to get "The Way You Look Tonight" out of head.
__ Look into this "disco" thing.
__ Apologize to downstairs neighbors.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

__ Powder wig.
__ Powder face.
__ Fluff ruffles.
__ Compose symphony.
__ Lunch.
__ Compose another symphony.
__ Buy some lemons; if can't find any lemons, consider bathing.
__ Chase comely lass.
__ Prepare list of witty double entrendres to use whenever people say they can't wait to see my Magic Flute.
__ Send consolation gift to Salieri. Maybe some rouge? (He never whears enough.)
__ Start playing for babies; they seem to like my stuff.

So I thought they were funny. And could be good inspiration for stories...writing exercises...hmmm.

And now for some poems. These are a couple of the ones I just sent out to The Iowa Review.

Wine Glasses
By Kelly Hayes

Things said –
he ponders
while washing
the wine glasses.

He’d said –
and been made
to feel – .
He rubs at the bar code
of a lip print.

Voices raised –
Absurdity.
But things were said.
He swirls the suds.

They’d said –
he had questioned – .
Words still roll.
He wipes dry
the wine glasses.

Cherries
By Kelly Hayes

I spit
my pit
farthest first.
Bobbing in the bay,
thoughts between us.
You spit
your pit
farther than mine,
Spoke of him, days past.
Pits under the bridge.

Another Contest

2009-01-14T14:47:00.000-08:00

I just packaged up some poetry to send off to The Iowa Review. Here I go again!

I'm posting Pockets, one of the stories I sent off to the Sonora Review, and then a couple of the poems.

I hope you enjoy.

Pockets
By Kelly Hayes

The last reverberations on the violin faded with the lights and applause exploded in the theatre. The cast took their bows, the conductor took his and the lights came up. Men in tuxedos ushered their dates out by their elbows. Women played with the jewels on their collarbones, basking in the afterglow as they filed into the foyer under the massive glittering chandelier. Men presented their tickets to the coat check for furs and top hats and they all stepped into the snow to their town cars, or hailed cabs.
Celia and Finn were the last to leave the theatre, Celia’s cheeks still glowing.
“Oh Finn, it’s snowing. I knew I should have worn my coat, but I just couldn’t bear to bring that drab old thing here.” Celia pulled the gossamer wrap tight around her shoulders, to no real warming effect.
“Celia darling, you’ll have my jacket of course.” Finn began to shrug out of his rented tux jacket when the man at the coat check called out to them.
“Miss, if you wouldn’t mind, I have a beautiful coat here that hasn’t been claimed for over a week and a half. No calls or nothin’. Looks to be just your size, too.” The man disappeared into his room and came out bearing a rich vanilla fur coat, knee length with a collar to the ears. Celia squealed and looked at Finn.
“If you’re sure it’s ok,” said Finn to the man.
“Of course. If anyone wanted it, they would have come long ago.”
Celia slipped into the coat like a cat into its own skin. She squeezed the fur around her and brushed her cheeks along the collars.
“Oh, it’s marvelous, Finn. Absolutely marvelous.”
“Shall we then?” Finn offered his arm and thanked the man at the coat check, and Celia and Finn stepped out into the snow.
They strolled slowly through the avenues and snowflakes, arm in arm talking over the performance and Celia’s amazing luck. Finn’s attention was only given to the occasional agreeable ‘mmmhmm’ or ‘oh, yes,’ as he rolled something small and delicate in his fingers hidden in his jacket pocket.
“Finn, I just can’t believe it. This is the happiest night of my life.” Celia ran her hands over the luxurious, creamy fur, and paused at the pocket. “Finn, there’s something in the pocket. What do you think it could be?”
“I haven’t the faintest.” Finn shivered in his thin jacket and shoes that were too small and pinched. He had felt so silly sitting through that performance with all those glittering people in his ancient suit that still smelled slightly of mothballs. But Celia had been wanting to go for so long, and tonight was to be a very special night, after all.
Celia pulled out a small black box, and instantly Finn hoped it was empty. Celia grinned up at him and flipped the lid. A brilliant diamond set in the center of a ring of small sapphires gleamed up at them in the lamplight. Celia gasped in delighted awe.
“Oh Finn! It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! Isn’t it just gorgeous?” She slipped it on her finger, holding her left hand up to admire twinkling among the snow.
“Perhaps we ought to return this to the theatre. Maybe they can find its owner.” Finn’s hand clenched in his pocket.
“Oh Finny, do we have to? No one came to claim it. A million things could have happened for this coat and this delicious ring to be left there. Can’t I keep them? Please?” Celia batted her eyes and pleaded with Finn. He looked off into the snow and sighed.
“Come Celia, I better get you out of this cold.” Celia snuggled down into the collar, and beamed at the ring on her hand, which beamed right back. Finn shivered again and felt something small and delicate snap in his fist in the pocket, as he led Celia home.

And I'm Off!

2009-01-13T16:05:00.001-08:00

I sent out three short-shorts to the Sonora short-short story contest yesterday! I sent By The Horns, and two others that will appear here shortly...you can let me know what you think of them.

I also went to a workshop this weekend by Anne Randolph and of Soup Kitchen Writing and got some tips on discipline for my writing. I've been setting a timer and writing for 15 minutes every night (for two nights so far!) and I actually look forward to it instead of the usual ADD I get when sitting at the computer. I may be on to something! Now for my next party trick...I'm still at the office (after hours so I'm not cheating The Man) waiting to go to my next job and I'm going to be working on my kid's book in this time... I'm almost too productive for my own good. Let's see how long this will work, and what great things will come of it?

One For Chuckles

2009-01-10T17:26:00.000-08:00

I'm sorting through my poetry, new and old, getting ready to send some out to contests when I happily stumbled upon this oldie-but-goodie. I don't think it's necessarily what the journals and lit mags want these days, but it still makes me smile and I hope it does you too.

Enjoy!

Poor Little Sheepy
By Kelly Hayes

Some little sheepy
is feelin’ kinda weepy
‘cause someone came
and stole her wooly coat.

They knitted it to a sweater,
made it smell a bit better,
and sent it ‘cross the ocean
on a trans-atlantic boat.

There are Great Big sales
on little sheepy tails,
half-off lambswool
sweaters dyed in blue.

And that poor little sheepy
is feelin’ bare and weepy,
she doesn’t like the
nakedness, would ewe?

Charmed Silver Shoes: For Readers Who Write: Upcoming Submission Deadlines

2009-01-05T19:41:00.000-08:00

I found this blog today which intrigues me and I will be looking at more...but especially for the submission information. As I said, New Year's resolutions, so here goes! And, her headlining quote is from the Wizard of Oz. It's meant to be!

Charmed Silver Shoes: For Readers Who Write: Upcoming Submission Deadlines

Food for thought...and writing

2009-01-04T09:36:00.001-08:00

I haven't done a whole lot of writing over my vacation...ok, practically none, though I did revise the plot to Wild Asparagus and kind of worked on my Cricket's short story...coming soon to a blog near you. But, I have been doing research. And by research, I mean reading up books like they were hot fudge sundaes. I am taking notes of great writing styles - sometimes to the detriment of my own writing confidence - and what works and what doesn't. Some good books and authors to note - Holy Fools by Joanne Harris, also the author of Chocolate. I have read most of her books so far and only one has been a miss. Holy Fools is well done and she is really a colorful storyteller. North to the Orient by Anne Morrow Lindbergh is a fascinating account of her journey with her husband Charles Lindberg up and over Canada and Alaska, down to Japan and China in the early days of aviation. And I've just started reading Saving Fish From Drowning by Amy Tan. I liked her style immediately and in the first few pages her 'dead' character was talking about wanting to have been cremated and put in 9 different boxes, and then those boxes would be given to 9 different friends to do with her as they would. Hmmm... who would my 9 boxes go to? I thought that was a good ponderance and there may be a writing exercise in there too. And with that lovely uplifting thought...I leave you to go do some writing.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T11:01:00.000-08:00

2009 is now underway and I am full of great intentions to hunker down and write write write! Resolutions include sending out more work to contests and publications while working on my kid's book and novel simultaneously. Number one goal for the year - get my kid's book sent out. I will keep you posted on that.
Meanwhile...here is a poem that was published in the 1999 edition of CU's literary magazine, Tip O' the Tongue, with a special dedication to my brother.

Feminist's Nightmare
By Kelly Hayes

I had a feminist’s nightmare
the other night.
However, I rather warmed
in the smoldering remains.
A shady…more like midnight-
dark character
was after me – nothing new,
and I found safety in the arms
of a man.
The fear and horror couldn’t
touch me
while I was wrapped strong
and tight in him.
No dream of mine has ever
had an outlet like that,
never had a safe port,
and I loved it.
I smiled all the following day in fond
memory of his strength.
Feminists around the world
will pull their hair and
scream and cry
and claim myself a traitor
to the glory of womanhood.
And I even felt a tinge of guilt
when I woke
that it was a man
and not my mother
holding me.
But you know, I escaped
on my own and safe
when I left his arms.
The strongest of us
sometimes need a recharge
and isn’t part of womanhood
love- even of a mere man?
Ooooh! I hear those screams.
Well, strike me down!
I dreamt of being held,
and safe,
and strong,
and I am a better woman
because of it.

The Culprit

2009-01-01T10:52:00.000-08:00

Here is a mugshot of the reason why I had not done as much writing as I'd wanted to this past year. Between this blanket, and the more normal-sized one for my brother and sister-in-law, I had my hands - and lap - and couch- full for the better part of the year. I won't be knitting any more blankets for a long, long long time...but just imagine if that had been a sweater!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T19:20:00.000-08:00

So much for a "small Christmas"! We all made out like bandits and I am writing this as Mom and I are curled up in the blanket I knit...curled up sitting across the room from each other in it's 17 foot long folds!
Dad gave me a small porcelain duckling that may soon appear in a kid's story or poem.
I hope you all had as merry a Christmas as we did here.

More writing to come later.

The Sounds of the Season

2008-12-21T10:37:00.000-08:00

This Poem was written in college in a poetry class when I was supposed to be reading very serious poetry. I think it might have been Yeats. Or some very influential guy from the sixties movement. Anyway, this is what they inspired. And this is one of the poems that made it into one of CU's literary magazines, Tip O' the Tongue, 1999.
Enjoy.

Herman T. Hermunkel
By Kelly Hayes

Sitting for hours within his dark lab,
Dr. Herman T. Hermunkel took one more stab
at his unending search for an invaluable clue
to unlock the mystery of a rather pungent stew.

“Wouldn’t it be great!” he exclaimed to his peers,
“If our toots could smell lovely and erase stinky fears!”
Fellow scientists snickered and emitted a stench,
leaving Herman a rage he set off to quench.

Finally the day long-awaited arrived,
when all of the theories, stunts, and tricks he’d contrived
proved to be useful and profitable too,
as Herman T. Hermunkel’s Toot-Beautifying Goo.

He could make it all flavors – whatever you choose,
He would make millions for this popular ruse!
Vanilla, or roses, or strawberry tart.
No one would guess that sweet odor a fart.

C.K., or lavender, or sweet, sweet red wine.
Aroma therapy is next up in line.
Hermunkel’s a genius, a bonefied stud,
too bad he couldn’t patent it before drowning in mud.

If you have a sensitive snuffer or snout
and you’d rather have pleasant things to snuffle about,
Remember dear Hermunkel and his pledge to the fart,
and next time you toot, it could become art.

Oh, If Only

2008-12-14T09:37:00.000-08:00

In the spirit of the season I remembered this poem written back in 1996, and as it happens also published in the 1996 Hartford Union High School writing magazine, Zyzzyva, in Hartford Wisconsin, thanks to my Aunt Mickie. It's good to know people.

Too bad this isn't written from real life. I do have my own mistletoe faithfully hanging, brought all the way from Poland. Now that's dedication to a kiss - or the effort to get one.

Mistletoe
By Kelly Hayes 1996

Waiting beneath the mistletoe
I stand, daring fate.
So far I haven’t seen a guy
who hasn’t got a date.

10 minutes later, I’m still waiting,
still standing sadly alone.
Maybe that dog in the corner will come,
if I can find a nice milk bone.

Ok, I’m sounding desperate
but what did I do to get this?
I didn’t think I was that ghoulish,
all I want is a kiss.

But wait, who is that?
tall, dark, handsome, and single,
right next to the tree
talking to Kris Kringle.

He just looked my way.
Could he have seen what’s above?
Yes, yes he did!
Oh gosh, it’s true love!

He whispers to Kris
maybe saying just a minute?
Come on, Romeo,
time’s wasting, let’s begin it.

But oh, how terrible!
Oh what shall I do!?
As Santa approaches
my heart hits my shoe.

What a horrible joke,
where’d the other guy go?
Of course he is sitting
enjoying the show.

Santa’s ‘bowl full of jelly’
is coming at me too fast.
I need a getaway plan
so I duck and squeeze past.

The man who began it is
laughing and hooting
and I think with regret
he is too cute for shooting.

I leave the party,
stricken and down.
The sky is clear
a perfect night for the town.

Across the street I see a man,
who looks hurt and lonely like me.
Oh well, my moment has past and gone,
but, I wonder who he could be.

I take another look and see
I know this man from work.
He really isn’t all that bad.
Not at all like the handsome jerk.

We exchange The Look
and like magic we know.
The star’s shine brighter
and it begins to snow.

He crosses the street
and our eyes stay locked.
I find I am in his arms,
warm, giddy and shocked.

As his lips meet mine
I inwardly grin,
Mistletoe or no,
let the games begin.

A little help

2008-11-24T19:08:00.000-08:00

I've discovered that I can't write with any tabs or indentations on this thing, which makes By The Horns a little harder to get. The horns are supposed to be making the sounds of Strauss's da da da di do - wop wop, wop wop. da da da di do - wop wop, wop wop.
I don't know if that makes it any better, but they way I had it all positioned on the page helped a little bit.
Here's to onomatopoeia.

By The Horns

2008-11-23T16:44:00.000-08:00

This is one of my favorite short stories...one of those things I was thinking about in traffic, and out this came. Wouldn't it be nice if short stories or poems came out of everyone's mouths instead of the swear words that really do?

This one is being held on to by the The Lighthouse Writers, here in Denver. I have no idea what that actually means, but at the very least, they liked it.

By the Horns
By Kelly Hayes

“So. That’s it then.”
“Yes, that’s it. Please get your things together and vacate the office by 5 this afternoon.”
Tom Reynolds left the principal’s office with his head lifted. In his own office he collected into a box his dog’s picture, a Moody Blues poster, piles of sheet music and his violin. Tom left his lesson plan open on the desk for the next unsuspecting teacher and shut the door behind him.
Sitting on the interstate crawling along at a sloth’s pace, Tom thought about the last year, the promises made and failed, the lives left unscathed by anything he could do, say or play. He’d bought into the age old myth put out in large part by Hollywood that music moves young inner city kids to do amazing things. The only one moved was him, out of a job.
Traffic was at a standstill. Someone behind him honked.
What was with these kids today, didn’t they watch TV? Hadn’t they seen enough movies that told them exactly where they were headed? Of course, society could only blame TV and movies when something extraordinarily bad happened, not the normal, consistent, day-to-day bad. Why weren’t they blamed when something good happened, when a kid was inspired by a hero on TV to do something with his life? Did that ever really happen?
Someone in front of him beeped.
Why was he blamed for trying to be an inspiration? For trying to push them? For trying? Maybe he’d call up Fred and see about going in with him on that condo in the Rockies. Buy up a years worth of canned beans and peaches and merrily toot his way through a quiet mountain man life. The bears would surely appreciate his Bach.
Someone to the right of him blaaaaated.
Ah, what the heck. Tom honked, and honked again.
The man two behind him – toot toot.
Tom sat up straight in his seat. Honk honk. He listened.
Teen three to the back left - beep.
Man five up – boop boop.
“We’ve got Strauss!!” He hooooooooooooooooooooonked loud and clear as he hopped out of the door.
“Ok folks! Watch me for your cue!” he honk honked and pointed to the man next to him telling him to honk once.
“Cue this!” The man yelled back with the finger.
Tom tried again, he honk honked, then pointed to the lady on the other side to honk once. Beep.
Tom grinned and bowed to her then pointed to the man two behind him, holding up two fingers. The man toooooooooooooooooooted instead. “Get back in your car you nut job!”
But Tom would not be pushed out this time, until he had done what he wanted to do. He wanted to move people, and he would. He honk honked, pointed to the kind lady beside him to honk once more – beep – and then to the man in front of him, signaling for two.
Watching in the rear view mirror, the man shrugged, blat blat. Tom again, honk honk, to the lady beside him again holding up two, beep beep. To the man three to the right, toot toot, past the jerk swearing at him to four to the back left, bop. Two over to the right, honk honk, and over one more - beep beep, two behind her, blat blat. Cheers rang out from all sorts of cars, horn symphonic participants and others.
“Let’s try it again folks!!” Tom yelled.
Honk Honk
Beep
Blat Blat
Honk Honk
Beep Beep
Toot Toot
Bop
Honk Honk
Beep Beep
Blat Blat

The crowd went wild. Even the unenthused were silenced in the honking cacophony and screams that ensued. Tom bowed, and bowed and bowed again. And when the traffic started moving again, he drove home to tell his dog about his fantastic day.

New Beginnings

2008-11-23T16:40:00.001-08:00

In working on the Asparagus Revival the other day, not only did I realize I needed to change the whole plot of the outer story, but also realized, that a whole new angle on the beginning chapter would be a big improvement. I got to thinking wouldn't it be so nice if we could rewrite our own beginning chapters...or any chapters for that matter. Hmmmm, I would have kissed him instead of the one I did, or I would have said that instead of this. Oh the possiblilities. So now Sam Grady in The Asparagus Revival has a whole new living situation and even more girl issues, but he has built some beautiful new pews for the church, so that's nice.

Winning Short Stories

2008-11-16T15:29:00.000-08:00

The Pawn Shop won 5th place in the National Writer's Association Short Story Contest, 2006

The Pawn Shop
By Kelly Hayes

In a small, red-brick, ordinary-looking building squished between two ominous, official limestone towers, Mr. Garrity owned a pawn shop. As ordinary as the little shop looked, Mr. Garrity did not sell ordinary pawn shop items. He bought and sold one item in various shapes, sizes, and makes. No matter what the condition, Mr. Garrity found there was a buyer for everything, and sellers of all kinds as well; a buyer for the broken, a seller for the brand new. Mr. Garrity sold the things of life.
At 8:00 sharp every morning, except Sundays, Mr. Garrity opened the red wooden door of his little shop, and jangled the bells over the door with his hand. Unlike other shops, this one had an audible life of its own-it pulsed with it. Some said you could set your watch by it. He checked that everything was in place, just as he’d left it the night before. There was a garage-style clutter to his displays, stuff that seemed to amass like algae on a warm pond. Mr. Garrity straightened a cluttered shelf here, blew dust off of the trophy case there, and headed to his counter.
To begin his day, Mr. Garrity polished his magnifying glasses and then put them away in his paisley vest pocket. He unlocked the register, retrieved the money from the safe, and opened his book of transactions. He sharpened his pencil, then sat on the stool, unfolded his daily paper, and waited.
The bells on the door soon jangled in the grey hair of a man just removing his hat. The brim knew well the course of his fingers as it turned again and again in the man’s hands. The grey-haired man began to walk among the shelves, peering into cases, grazing over tables, all the while inching to Mr. Garrity’s counter with his eyes and spinning hat.
“Can I help you, sir?”
The grey-haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown bag.
“I, um…I…I want to know…know if, what I can get for this?” He gently put the bag on the counter. Mr. Garrity peered inside the brown paper.
“It looks a bit dirty to me.”
“Oh, well, um,y-yes, but a little bit of polish could fix that right up, don’t you think?” The hat was spun in his fingers. Mr. Garrity looked him over, put on his magnifying glasses, and looked closely at the contents of the bag.
“Well, let’s see now…I guess I could give you twenty-five for this, or twenty-five off an exchange…if you find anything that interests you.” Now the protruding magnifying lenses were studying the man with grey hair. Mr. Garrity stuck his hands into his paisley vest pockets stretching over his paunch and watched the man work his way to a table, all the while stuttering out to Mr. Garrity.
“My, my wife had a gold chain for that one, you see,” he pointed to the brown bag. “You know the saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.” He snorted. “They never really clarify, though, just who the heart is supposed to become fonder of.” The man with the grey hair let out a little titter, punctuated by another snort. “So…um…well I don’t need that chain anymore, you see…um, w- what about this one?” The man pointed to a table and Mr. Garrity leaned up on his toes, hands on the counter to see at what the grey-haired man was pointing. “Ah, yes. That used to be an athlete’s. Young man was a runner, good one too.” Mr. Garrity massaged the scalp behind his ear. “But he met a girl and got a new one, couldn’t use that one anymore. It’s still in good shape though, still ticks.”
The man looked it over, then picked it up, turning it in the one hand that was not still soothing the worried hat brim.
“How much?”
Mr. Garrity thought a minute. “Oh, I’d say sixty-five. That’d make forty for you…if you want it.”
The man with the grey hair looked at it one more time and stepped up to Mr. Garrity’s counter. He put his hat on the glass top and dug for his wallet. The cash exchanged, the register rang, and Mr. Garrity held up the empty brown paper bag. “You want a bag?”
The man shook his head and reached underneath his coat, slipping his new purchase into his left shirt pocket.
“Thank you, sir. I guess you’ll put my old one up there on the shelf.”
Mr. Garrity nodded. The grey-haired man looked morosely at the shelves, then picked up his hat and walked out through the jangling bells, fingers quiet as he fixed the brim around his head.
Mr. Garrity took off the magnifying glasses and replaced the empty spot of the man’s purchase with the one he had exchanged. Someone would want that one too.
The bells jangled again just grazing the dyed hairdo of an older woman. Like the other man, her hair could have been grey, but her fingers were resting easy on the edges of her heavily beaded, bulging pocketbook. She rustled in fur up to Mr. Garrity’s counter, not daring or stopping to look around at the rest of the merchandise.
At the counter, in front of Mr.Garrity with his magnifying eyes back in place, her demeanor melted just a bit. She extended the glittering pocketbook slowly, paused,
then carried on. Mr.Garrity clicked open the gold clasps and the magnifying lenses peered in.
“This looks like it’s still got quite a few good years left in it.”
She swallowed and patted her false brown hair.
“My son doesn’t want it anymore.” She looked straight into the lenses leaping two inches from his face.
“Well, I’d say it’s worth forty. Would you like to look around,” he gestured to the rest of the store, “maybe exchange it?”
“No thank you.” She didn’t turn her head. “I don’t want to be heartless, but, I don’t need another one.”
The register rang and the woman looked at the two twenties in her hand. She blinked up at Mr. Garrity, then folded them into her much flatter, beaded pocketbook, and rustled out through the bells.
Mr. Garrity smoothed down his paisley vest and likewise, his white mustache, still with the magnifying eyeballs slung over his ears.
Hours ticked on. Just before closing, the bells jangled over the bright blue eyes of a young man. He carried a small white box in one hand, the other dug into his pants pocket. He blue-eyed the tables, counters, and shelves with the air of a man heading into a hopeless battle.
He picked something off a shelf and brought it up to the counter and Mr. Garrity’s tall magnifying eyes. “I want to exchange this, if I can sir.”
Mr. Garrity opened the white box. “Son, this one is perfectly fine, and the one you’ve picked is broken.”
“I know,” said the blue eyes, “but I need a broken one to be a good writer.” The blue eyes began to fill up with more blue, “and I want to be a good writer.”
“Hogwash,” Mr. Garrity said, but the young man looked sadly determined. “All right then,” sighed Mr. Garrity, and the register rang. “Here’s fifty dollars, the difference.”
The man with the blue eyes shoved the wad into his pocket, keeping his eyes on his new purchase. “Thanks.” He turned and shuffled to the door. The blue eyes did not see the bells that called out his going, and he didn’t hear Mr. Garrity’s “good luck.”
Mr. Garrity pulled out his pocket watch and seeing that it was five minutes of five, removed the magnifying glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The store was as straight as he’d found it that morning, so he clanged open the register one more time, and counted the money. He jotted in the inventory book next to the register what transactions had taken place, what was lost or gained. And finally, he slipped his chubby arms into the sleeves of his coat, squashed his thinning hair under his hat, and jangled the bells with his hand as he left.
He turned, locked the door, and glanced up at the sign of his store with the large wooden figures of magnifying glasses over a simple red heart and red words: A Change of Heart.

Foiled again!

2008-11-16T15:20:00.001-08:00

So I finally get around to starting this thing up, and then my internet goes kaput. Wouldn't you know it!?
And there was a mini-coup from the pages of The Asparagus Revival that I was working on last weekend. Turns out that a major plot change is in order and now I have to re-think all sorts of tid-bits. Didn't see that one coming!
And I just finished re-reading Atlas Shrugged for the 4th or 5th time. Every time I read that massive piece of work I find it amazing how much of real life jumps right out of the pages. The proposed GM bailout is right off of page 911 (ironic) in the hardback edition. I hope to be able to write like Rand, with such influence and pull on my readers, but a lot fewer 'as if' comparisons and over-descriptive eyes.
Here's a poem written after the first time I read Shrugged.

The Hero
By Kelly Hayes

When the last light falls
and falls to dark,
that’s when we will begin
we the few who love our lives
will fight and we will win.

A single man faced the wall,
more gathered close behind.
They were here to take his life,
or rather, take his mind.

“You know the truth” a short man said,
“you know we want what’s best,
we need your mind to make it work –
and then we’ll let you rest.”

The single man said nothing
but “this life and mind are mine.”
The men shouted “It’s your duty!
you can’t just leave us all behind!”

The man with the mind gave them a smile,
then turned and looked away.
The men began to scream and shout
“don’t you care what the people say?

“We told them we would save them,
we told them we had you,
and you would bring us all to safety,
there is no more we can do!”

“You have to!” they all chanted,
“think of your fellow man!
Just sacrifice your mind to us
and we can finish our plan.”

The man with the mind just smiled,
and induced a state of fear
among the men who shivered,
and cried when made to hear:

“When the last light falls
and falls to dark,
that’s when we will begin,
we the few who love our lives
will fight and we will win.”

Just Men

2008-11-09T14:36:00.000-08:00

Just Men
By Kelly Hayes

Men in sandles, robes and togas
contemplated: "who is God?"
Handed down our laws on tablets
spread the word, and we were awed.

Said that God felt this or that way
said that God loved us, not them
Said they knew the way to heaven
But who are they? Just men.

Centuries pass and still they're holy
before the altars and the choir
showing all the ways to know Him
or eternal damning fire.

Then a headline blasts their prayers
their saintly leaders shown to them,
Embezzlers! Molesters!
But who are they? Just men.

In our courtroom, on the benches
Judges holding up the law
hearing cases, passing judgment
on what one did or heard or saw.

Then there's one that gets away
or sometimes two or five or ten
how could that happen with our laws?
Who are these judges? Just men.

There're our leaders, in the white house
Stately, regal and refined
passing bills and handing vetos
helping countries undefined.

And then headline news is breaking
with juicy scandals once again.
All these leaders we look up to,
who are they? Just men.

Any time we grab a pedestal
and put upon it some old guy
be prepared for some disaster
and do we really need ask why?

No matter what the clothes or medals,
no matter what the big to do,
down underneath all the prestige,
they are just men, and women too.

Moving Forward Fearlessly

2008-11-09T14:28:00.001-08:00

"No one will know you've been swimming, if you don't make waves."
-Anonymous

My friends are inspiring me to get a move on with my writing. I think it's part fall - I always feel extra inspired this time of year - and part their moving and shaking that has me feeling extra shaky. One of my closest friends just surprised us last night by opening a bar. Go get 'em tiger! Another friend is going back to school. Yet another is chasing down her own business. And another is making a fresh new start, with the world at her fingertips.
A bunch of us went for fun, frou-frou facials for a girls night, and while the chocolate/pumpkin masks were drying we got to draw Fairy cards. No, we weren't in Boulder. My fairy card said Moving Forward Fearlessly. Whether that's in reference to my upcoming roommateless independence in my own home, or sending off my animal sounds story - ("Soon!" "Ira, How soon?" "Very soon!" )- or lighting a fire under my butt for the second half of my Asparagus revival book, I am indeed moving forward...FEARLESSLY!

Winning Poetry

2008-11-09T13:19:00.000-08:00

3rd place winner of the National Writer's Association 2005 Poetry Contest

My Cowboy
By Kelly Hayes

Jonathan Tallman of 1870,
I will picture you handsome,
rugged and dusty
with soft brown eyes.
At 25 you knew the layout
of the world
and you probably had a girl or two.
I can see you riding over the hills,
stompin' your boots,
smiling.
I daydream about meeting your ghost
at sunset on cemetery hill,
watching the mountains fade.
I sit next to you,
we each clasp our knees and
we are not afraid.
I wonder where the sun was shining
when you were lost.
It's just past your anniversary.
I guess, from ghostly lore, I missed you.
I'd say I'm about 128 years
and an Indian late.
That's a shame when I imagine your eyes.

And here I am

2008-11-09T13:12:00.000-08:00

Welcome to The Write Fit, the future site of a blossoming business idea, and the current portfolio and track log of my writing endeavors, successes and adventures. Happy to have you along for the ride!

Publish Post